Sorting Through The Years
by Bruce's Bat Cave
Summary: This is a collections of sortings. There'll be sorting from the marauders era, Potter's generation, and the next.
1. Draco Malfoy

A/N: This'll be the sorting from all different perspectives. One might even be the hats. But, as I was saying, this'll be from everyones perspective; Neville, Dumbledore, James Sirius, James, Lily Luna, Lily, Remus, Sirius, Draco and a ton more. I apologize for any misspellings, my miscrosoft word software is malfunctioning slightly. I've altered the course a bit as to where as soon as the hat is placed on Draco's head it doesn't scream "SLYTHERIN" but pauses to delve a bit deeper.

The sorting of Draco Malfoy.

The young blonde boy glanced around at his surroundings, they were very grand indeed. It seemed as if the entire hall was the prodegy of a set designer. Malfoy sneered a bit, he was used to this kind of scenery, being pure-blood and all. He could hear Potter and the blood traitor discussing what house they'd like to be sorted into.

The platinum blonde growled slightly as he heard the ginger throw snide remarks about Slytherin into the conversation, but quickly composed himself and stood a little taller. He couldn't expect a _Weasley _to know anything about which house is superior, so he wouldn't let it bother him much.

"Malfoy, Draco" That batty old Proffesor McGonagall had announced Draco's name. Draco stood a bit taller as he swaggered over to the stool on which all of the previous first years had been seated while they were sorted. Malfoy was subtly disgusting at the prospect of placing his bottom where blood traitors and mudbloods alike had perched, but none the less, he sat.

McGonagall lowered the hat onto his head and immediantly a gruff voice was whispering in his ear.

"Oh my- another Malfoy! I knew I'd been seeing one of you in the near future. Let's see here... cunning, sly, a need to prove yourself to your family, a thirst for fame; recognition."

Malfoy smirked at the hats words, all of these were perfect words to fit his perfect pure blood personality.

The sorting hats voice changed into a mocking tone as it continued, "Ahh- pig-headed, arrogant."

_Why you-_ "Slytherin!" the sorting hat bellowed.

Draco's ears had turned red and he stood promptly from the stool, shoving his way through the crowd to the table of cheering Slytherins.

A/N: So, I'd love some constructive critisism. But; please do not point out spelling/grammer mistkes. I rely souly on Microsoft for that and they have let me down. Reviews are greatly appreciated, and I will need 2 to continue to the next sorting(: Have a nice day/afternoon/night.


	2. Lily Evans

A/N: MY Microsoft software is still going haywire, so I apologizer again for any spelling/grammer mistakes. Thank you to everyone who reviewed on the last sorting, I really appreciate it(:

The sorting of Lily Evans.

Lily stood there awkwardly, still staring around in awe at the decorations surrounding her. If was as if she stepped into a holiday Christmas card. Everything was so lavishly decorated she wondered how much time it had taken. Then she remembered; this was no ordinary school, it was one of magic, it didn't take long to do much of anything.

She was wringing her hands nervously as she listened to Professor McGonagall explain how the sorting would take place. She could feel a light sheen of sweat building throughout her body and she was shaking slightly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down a bit but questions kept buzzing around in her head like a horde of angry bees.

_What if they all judge me? What if the sorting hat screams something like "IT'S A MUGGLE BORN", What if none of the Professors like me because I'm not pure? What if I don't have any friends? What if Sev and I get seperated? What if Sev hates me because everyone else will? What if I'm sorted into Slytherin? What if I'm a horrible witch? What if-_

A hand on her shoulder made her jump slightly and turn toward the hands owner. Her best friend was standing there, his greasy hair accenting his eyes in a slightest way. His eyes were filled with concern as he examined his friend and smiled a bit, understandingly. "It'll be okay."

"Evans, Lily!" She would have to go.

She gulped and turned once more toward the stool that the sorting hat was placed on. She took a few cautious and slow steps before she built the nerve to walk at a slightly hurried pace to the stool and sat down. As soon as the hat was placed on her head she felt has if her mind had been invaded.

"Ah- a muggle born. Courageous, I see, afraid of being judged? Very smart for her age but afraid to let people know of her prowess."

Lily's eyebrows knitted together as she listened to the sorting hats words, as the words he said seemed to ring true.

"Very kind to those around her but protective of the ones she loves... hmm, yes, there seems to be only one possible solution for you."

Lily closed her eyes once more and willed it to be Gryffindor; Sev had told her that all the brave people go into Gryffindor, even though he had talked down about them as well because his entire family had been in Slytherin.

"GRYFFINDOR" As the sorting hat bellowed the word Lily's eyes snapped open and a large smile spread across her face. She hopped of the stool and made her way to the table cheering the loudest. She was so occupied in her happiness she didn't notice the look of stark sadness on her best friends face.

A/N: This is how I THOUGHT it would go. This is completely my opinion. I'd very much like 3 more reviews to continue and if any of you have any ideas for the next sorting I will credit you if I decide to use it(:

Keep calm and Potter on.


	3. Sirius Black

A/N: This is a total guess as to how I think his sorting went; I didn't get many reviews on the last one but still, I'm bored and I like this story. I really thought he'd be exestentially worried and distraught because he never wanted to be anything like his parents/family. So, this is how I think it went down.

The sorting of Sirius Black.

Sirius had a deep smirk set upon his face as he listened to his friends boasting about most likely being sorted into Gryffindor. On the outside he looked calm and cool, the envy of all his lower peers, but on the inside he was a wreck. His sorting was something the young Black had been worrying about the entire train ride. His new friends; James, Remus, and even little Peter were all joking and laughing the entire way, making fun of Slytherin and Hufflepuff house. Whereas Sirius, who's friends hadn't noticed his quietness, was jittery and anxious. James had said if Sirius was sorted into Slytherin like the rest of his family, he wouldn't be his friend anymore. If he was serious or not, Sirius had no idea.

"Black, Sirius!" There was his name.

The smirk on Sirius' face slowly faded as he made his way slowly to the stool. His hands were shaking slightly and his breaths were coming quick. He glanced behind him once, at the friends he had only had for a few hours, and thought what would happen if the outcome of the sorting didn't go well.

Sirius sat on the stool and his smirk returned, trying to keep up appearances. When the hat was placed on his head he felt himself be invaded. The sorting hat was picking through the deepest catacombs in Sirius' brain. Locked away memories, long and happily forgotten, emotions better pent up, and pain long since forgotten.

"Hmm- interesting past this one. Strong of mind and of body, fairly sure of himself but I do sense some insecurities..."

Sirius was shifting uncomfortably, his eyes practically rolling into the back of his head as he looked in the sorting hats direction.

"Ahh- what's this I see?" The hat continued on, "love, yes and a lot of it, courage as well..."

Sirius closed his eyes tight, he didn't want to see the looks on his friends faces when he was sorted into pureblood mania...

"Gryffindor!"

Sirius's eyes snapped open, he was happy for a fraction of a second, then he remembered his parents. What would they think of this?

_Oh shit._

A/N: Sorry if it's rubbish, I tried though.


	4. Neville Longbottom

A/N: I am feeling especially fanficy today so I decided to update more than once; this one is dedicated to LunaLovegood1113, because she wanted Neville' sorting.

The Sorting of Neville Longbottom:

Neville stood there nervously, twittling his thumbs and keeping a firm grip on his slippery amphibian. The fascination with the lavish decorations he had felt earlier had oozed away in face of what was to come next.

The last conversation he had had with his Gran was replaying in his head like someone had put it on non-stop, he would flinch everytime he remembered the last sentence she had spoken to him.

_Gran was fussing over his jacket, zipping it and straightening it when it was already fully zipped and stalk straight. She kept muttering things under her breath like, "Probably be in Hufflepuff," and "Such a disaster."_

_Everytime one of the mumbled sentences escaped his grandmother's lips he would flinch slightly, but not too audibly, he didn't want her to know he could hear her._

_"Now," his Gran bent down to his level, locking him in a penetrating gaze, "remember," she seemed to be having trouble summoning the words to say, "even if- you are not in Gryffindor, I will still be-" She stopped her sentence and sighed staring off into space for a millasecond before looking back into Neville' eye'._

_"I love you Neville, and nothing would make me more proud than for you to be in Gryffindor like your parents."_

_Neville swallowed hard, he fought back the tears that threatened to pool over his eyes and the pain that rose in his chest everytime his parent' were mentioned._

_His Gran squeezed his shoulder firmly, "Don't dissapoint me."_

Neville was shaken back to reality by the sound of his name echoing through the hall foreboodingly. The young man gulped and took a few steps toward the stool before he had to stop and collect his nerves. His knees were wobbling so badly they threatened to collapse on him and his palms were dripping with sweat. An image of his parents pushed its way into his brain and he opened his eyes and clenched his jaw, making his way to the stool.

He sat down, slightly more confident with the image of his parents still fresh in his mind. When the sorting hat was placed on the young boys head it was also the first image it saw.

"Alice and Frank Longbottom. You are their son, yes? Extrodinary wizards, they were." The sorting hats voice seem to be gentle as it recalled the memory of Neville's parents. Could the sorting hat, Neville thought, feel sympathy?

"You're very kind hearted it seems, but ashamed of it because of your upbringing. You are afraid of dissapointing the one you care about most..." The sorting hats voice seemed to drist off in Neville's head as if it were deep in thought, or moreso, deep in _Neville's _thoughts.

Neville allowed his head to droop a bit and his eyes to wander downcast at the sorting hats words. Everything was true, of course, but it still hurt to hear.

"But, I sense a great bit of bravery in you yet, Longbottom. Yes, I see it now, you have a bright future ahead of you. Very loyal too..."

Neville smiled a small smile, but a smile none the less.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The sorting hat reached its decision without a second thought.

Neville gasped with surprise and grinned in pleasure as he practically ran to sit down with his fellow house-mates.

_There's still hope for me yet, Gran._

A/N: I really hoped you liked it! Reviews appreciated!


	5. Scorpius Malfoy

A/N: If you took the time to read the author's note then you would know that this will be the last sorting I post and I will put this fanfiction on hold until I get the reviews I so desire. This may sound demanding, but I am doing what I need to do as I am using this site to hone my writing skills and I can't very well do that if I get no feedback. Now, on with the sorting.

The Sorting of Scorpius Malfoy.

Scorpius Malfoy stood there, calm, cool and collected. Anyone who looked at him would see an image of his father. Scorpius was a mini-Draco Malfoy. His hair was a white blonde and his eyes a stormy grey, the same color as his father's. Scorpius got practically nothing from his mother, a fact that his mother loved to drone on about and complain about as well.

Scorpius had a deep smirk set on his face, he heard the Potter boy talking to his Weasley friend. His father had told him not to bother with them; not to call them out, but to be civil. That, he could do.

His father had also said that he should be sorted into Slytherin, he looked exactly like his father, so why not have his father's old house? To anyone who looked at him he seemed to be an excited young boy, Slytherin bound and very happy about it. But on the inside he was panicking. His entire family had been sorted into Slytherin and he shouldn't be any different, should he? But that's just it. Nothing could stay the same forever, and he knew that, as did his father.

He could tell his father was worried about the outcoming of Scorpius' sorting because in the previous years, his son had developed a nack for reading any book that came his way and asking the oddest questions.

_"Daddy?" Young Scorpius said as he entered the kitchen. He was 8 at the time and had to arch his neck at an odd angle to look into his father's face._

_"Yes, Scorpius?" Draco inquired, glancing down from the daily prophet to his little boy._

_"Why can't we understand animals?"_

_The young boy's question had caught the man by surprise, as it took him a second to process it. "What do you mean, Scorp? Animals are animals, why would you _want _to understand them?" A crease had furrowed it's way in between the older Malfoy's eyebrows._

_"Because they talk to each other, dad. So, if they can understand each other, why can't we? They could teach us wonderful things I bet!"_

Ever since that day Scorpius had been asking his father the oddest questions and was never receiving an answer. Scorpius had a thirst for knowledge he just couldn't seem to satisfy.

"Malfoy, Scorpius!" His name had been called.

He sat himself upon the stool where billions of other first years had sat and straightened his back, he had a certain regal apperance about him.

"RAVENCLAW." It had taken less than a second for the sorting hat to bellow that word and the regal apperance he had carried but a moment before deflated. Wait until his father heard about this.


End file.
